


a light shining through

by growlery



Category: The Hobbit (Jackson Movies), The Lord of the Rings - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Zombies, Animal Death, F/M, Grief/Mourning, Pining, Questing, Violence, non-sexual bed-sharing, set in a nebulous time and place, tauriel carrying kili aka my favourite thing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-28
Updated: 2014-05-28
Packaged: 2018-01-21 03:52:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,339
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1536515
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/growlery/pseuds/growlery
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Kíli and Tauriel are an unlikely pair, but they make an excellent team. [zombie AU]</p>
            </blockquote>





	a light shining through

**Author's Note:**

> written for hobbitstory and using for my lost / found square at cotton candy bingo. title is from collide by howie day. 
> 
> thanks are due to leapylion3 for the excellent art she made for the fic, despite me being a pretty useless person to collaborate with, which you can find [here](http://roslinfrey.co.vu/post/87149417425/my-art-for-growlerys-awesome-kiliel-fic-which)! also to constantlyinconstant, who not only puts up with me existing in her presence on the regular but also betaed this on incredibly short notice. ♥

For the fourth time in as many days, Kíli is running for his life. 

There is a horde of zombies behind him; Kíli has the advantage of speed and agility, but they outnumber him several dozen to one. Every so often, he twists around to fire off arrows at the ones getting too close for comfort, but there are three left in his quiver and he can't keep running forever. 

For the four hundredth time, Kíli misses his family. If they were here, he wouldn't have to run; they could stand their ground and fight, secure enough in their number to destroy any threat. But then, large groups have nearly as many disadvantages as a single traveller. That's how Kíli ended up alone, after all. 

He twists around a corner, and what looks suspiciously like a settlement looms up in front of him. Kíli can't help the hope that flares in his chest. If he puts on a burst of speed, and if he is very, very lucky, he may reach it before the zombies reach him. 

Kíli uses his last arrows on the zombies closest to him, and then he runs like the legendary Smaug himself is on his heels. He manages several hundred yards on adrenaline alone before he starts flagging, before the moans of the zombies get so loud they're roaring in his ears, before he feels fingers clawing at his arm. Kíli whacks that zombie with his now-useless bow, shoving it back against the many, many others. 

He starts running again, but the despair has already settled into his bones. There's too many of them. The settlement's too far away. He'll never make it. He's going to-

An arrow whizzes past Kíli's ear and he turns to see a zombie fall to the ground, just inches from him. More arrows fly in quick succession, and Kíli rolls into a crouch to avoid being hit himself. When he jumps to his feet, there is an elf fighting off the horde, female, by the look of it, though she is little more than a blur of green-clad limbs and bright red hair. 

She yells what sounds like a command, and from seemingly nowhere, a whole troupe of elves appear, picking off zombies like they're squashing flies. It's pretty amazing to watch, actually, but Kíli hates just watching. 

"Throw me your sword!" he yells to the first elf who appeared. "I can help."

She makes a disbelieving noise. "If you think I'm giving you a weapon, dwarf, you are even more of a fool than you look."

In one movement, she draws her sword, whips around and decapitates the zombie that had been creeping up on her, and Kíli is very determinedly not impressed. 

It isn't long before she and the other elves have dispatched of the zombies in their entirety, and she sends the others off to check there are no more stragglers. 

"Come on," she says to Kíli, grabbing him by the collar. "You're coming with me."

"That's what I always like to hear," he jokes, or tries to, at least, because the elf just gives him a cold, sort of incredulous look and drags him into the settlement, the tall, heavy doors closing behind them. 

She walks quickly enough that he almost has to run to keep up with her or risk being literally dragged by his heels, which he's not sure his pride could actually take. He's just about to ask her if she could possibly slow down just a little bit when she stops in front of a group of elves, straightening up to her full height. 

"I found this one on the borderlands," the elf who rescued him announces, not relinquishing her grip on his collar. At least she has the courtesy to speak the common tongue so he can understand too, he supposes. "I think he was what drew the latest horde to us."

Another elf steps forward, frowning. "Then why didn't you just let them kill him, Tauriel?" he asks, like Kíli isn't even there, which is just _charming_. 

"Nobody dies on my watch," Tauriel says, hard as flint. "You know that."

The other elf raises his eyebrows. "Even outsiders?" he asks. "Even a dwarf?"

"Careful, Legolas," Tauriel snaps, "you're starting to sound like your father."

This seems to strike a nerve in the other elf – Legolas – but he says nothing in return. Kíli looks between the two of them warily. 

"I apologise," he says, which draws everyone's attention to him. "I wouldn't have come here if I realised I was trespassing." 

Especially if he realised he was trespassing on elven territory, he adds silently. He has some sense, no matter what his uncle says. 

His throat gets tight at the thought of his family, and he forces himself back to the issue at hand: preventing his own execution. 

"I saw your settlement," he continues, "and thought I could find shelter. I was separated from my... companions a few days ago and I've barely eaten or slept since." He swallows hard. "I'm just trying to get back to them."

"You will find no shelter here, dwarf," one of the other elves sneers, and Kíli tries not to flinch. 

"Fair enough," he says, as neutrally as he can. "Then if you'll just let me be on my way-"

"To travel alone is suicide," Tauriel interrupts. "Especially on an empty stomach and a poor night's sleep."

Kíli gives her a level look, which would be more effective if he didn't have to tilt his head up to meet her gaze. "My companions are all I have in the world," he says. "I have to try."

Tauriel looks back at him, unflinching. "I didn't save your life so you could go and get yourself killed," she says eventually. "Raineth, get the dwarf some food and bring it to my quarters."

"My _name_ is Kíli," he says, sick to death of the epithet being hurled at him, and then what she said actually sinks in. 

"Tauriel, you can't do this," Legolas says urgently, while Kíli is busy gaping at her. 

"I think you'll find that, as captain of the guard," Tauriel says, her voice entirely even, "I can."

"My father-" Legolas starts, and Tauriel snaps, "Your father would have us execute trespassers, or, worse, throw them to the zombies so they can do our dirty work for us. Your father would have us let people starve when we have stores that can feed twice our number. Your father would have us just watch zombies pick their way across this land and do nothing at all until they come for us. Your father," she says, her voice harder than stone, "isn't here."

Legolas looks at her for a long time, and then he says, with a note of finality that even Kíli can recognise, "On your head be it." 

And then he turns and leaves. Most of the other elves follow him, except the one Tauriel commanded to bring Kíli food. 

"Captain?" Raineth says. Tauriel just nods at her, and Raineth nods back before disappearing too. 

"You don't have to do this," Kíli says, when they're alone. "I can look after myself."

"I'm sure you can," Tauriel says. "My room is this way."

She lets him go, then, and starts to walk away, and Kíli knows that she is giving him a choice. It wasn't a particularly complex route she took to get here from the main gate, and Kíli's pretty sure it wouldn't be hard to convince the guards to let him leave. 

Or he could stay, and eat the elves' food, and maybe even sleep a while in the safety of their settlement. 

"Durin's beard," Kíli mutters, and hurries after Tauriel. 

*

Tauriel's room, as expected, is tall and narrow, with just enough room for a bed, a chest of drawers and a sink in the corner. Kíli marvels at it for a moment, marvels at the realisation that this is a proper, long-term settlement with running water and a sewage system, until Tauriel clears her throat. 

"I can pour you a glass, if you like," she says, and he just shrugs. Nodding, she does so, placing it on the chest of drawers. "Aren't you going to sit down?"

He does, then, cross-legged against the chest of drawers. The ground is cold and hard, but it's better than Tauriel's bed. If Tauriel is unnerved by this, she doesn't show it, just sits gracefully on her bed and watches him with something that might be curiosity until he finishes eating. 

"Thank you," he says, a little stiffly, and she nods. 

"Your companions," she says. "They're your family, aren't they?"

Kíli thinks about lying, but the elf has been nothing but kind to him, and not in the condescending way that sets his teeth on edge and has him itching for a weapon. Tauriel is just...kind. That's not to say he trusts her, but he doesn't actively distrust her, at least. 

"And friends," he says, which pretty much means the same. "We're trying to get to Erebor, where the plan is to hole up with a few decades' worth of supplies and wait out the apocalypse." He says _we're_ because it's true, because he's going to find the company and rejoin them. He is. 

"Erebor," Tauriel repeats thoughtfully. "Isn't that beset by an evil dragon?"

Kíli laughs. "That's just a fairy story," he says. "But then, so is Erebor itself, in a way."

Tauriel tilts her head in curiosity. "How so?" 

"Well, it's supposed to be this magnificent kingdom beneath a mountain," Kíli explains, "full of gold and treasure, able to withstand any threat. The best thing you could possibly imagine, the way my grandfather used to speak of it." His smile turns wistful. "But it was lost, years before I was born, and nobody even knew where to start looking until the old wizard Gandalf turned up out of the blue with my great-grandfather's old map, and then it was like-" Kíli breaks off, shaking his head, unable to describe it, unable to find the words for the joy and the hope that had overwhelmed everyone, thrummed through them all with the same rhythm. "It was like a dream coming true right before our eyes. We'd lost too many staying where we were, and now we had a chance at something like a proper life. We packed up and left that same day."

Kíli bites his lip, aware that he's probably said too much, but Tauriel just smiles down at him. "I think I understand," she says. "I am curious as to how you intend to find your companions without the aid of a map, however."

"Um," Kíli says intelligently. "I know we were heading east?"

Tauriel laughs at that, which surprises Kíli because he didn't even know elves could laugh. It makes her eyes glow, her face shine, and Kíli has to look away. 

"I suppose it's a good thing you won't be making the journey alone, then," she says, and Kíli's mouth drops open. 

"I won't?"

"I shall be accompanying you," Tauriel says, the same way she had said _as captain of the guard_. "I hail from the east; I should be able to help you find your way. You didn't really think I was going to let you go off on your own, did you?"

"Well, yes," Kíli says, fairly reasonably, he thinks. "You don't know me at all. You- you have duties, and stuff. Why would you forego your responsibility to your people in order to help a dwarf?"

"I haven't gone farther than the borders of this settlement in years and years," Tauriel says. "I have seen nothing of the world since it was overrun. I protect my people and I protect the land we inhabit but that isn't enough. I'm part of this world, too, and I want to help it. I want to help you."

"But this place is a sanctuary," Kíli says, still unable to understand. "You're safe here. If you leave, you could end up dead."

Tauriel huffs a breath, says, "I am not afraid of dying." She looks down for a few moments, as if collecting herself, and then she gives him a look that would split a weaker dwarf in half. "If you are so opposed to the idea of me accompanying you then I shall not trouble you further, but-"

"No," Kíli says quickly. "You're right, it's too dangerous to travel alone, and I saw you fight. I would be honoured to have you by my side." Too late, he realises how that must have sounded, and coughs. "As a travelling companion, of course. Nothing else."

"I didn't think you meant anything else," Tauriel says, but she gives him an impish smile, and it makes something in Kíli feel inexplicably warm. 

"Good," he says, smiling back at her. "Glad that's settled."

Tauriel nods. "I'll make arrangements with Legolas. I assume he'll only be too glad to take over my position," she says wryly. "And while I'm gone, you should rest. You look about ready to collapse."

Kíli would argue, for the sake of his dignity if not for the sake of being contrary, but he really is exhausted, and when Tauriel gets up, she pulls him to his feet and pushes him down gently onto her bed, pushes on his shoulders until his head hits her pillow. It's horribly soft, and it smells sweet and woody and intoxicating. 

"Nobody will harm you," Tauriel tells him, her voice unexpectedly gentle. "I swear to you."

Kíli just nods. He could've resisted, but he didn't, and his eyes are closing before he makes the conscious decision to sleep. 

*

Kíli is woken by hands shaking his shoulders and a soft voice saying his name, and for a moment he is utterly disoriented, has no idea where he is or how he got here. And then the shapes and colours resolve themselves into Tauriel's face, hovering above his. 

Kíli sits up, scrubbing at his eyes. "You talked to Legolas, then?"

"I did," Tauriel says, looking vaguely amused. "Several hours ago."

Kíli's eyes widen. "You should have woken me earlier."

"You needed the rest," Tauriel says, like it's nothing. "Now come. We need to leave as soon as possible if we are to have any hope of catching up with your kin."

Kíli finds himself feeling a little disappointed when she only motions for him to follow her out of her room. He kind of liked her dragging him along, liked pushing against her grip, feeling the strength in her push back. But that's a ridiculous thing to think, so he just shakes his head and hurries after her. 

"I have already prepared most of our supplies," Tauriel tells him when he catches up, "but there are a few things we still need to collect."

Her meaning becomes clear when she hauls open a set of doors which lead to a room filled with swords, daggers, bows, axes and all manner of other weapons. Kíli suddenly, fervently, wishes his brother were here, and has to shove down the pang of homesickness. 

"Take your pick," Tauriel says. "You can have as much as you can be sure you can carry."

"In that case, I'd clear you out," he says, grinning. "Best if I just take a few daggers and several arrows for my bow."

"As you wish," she says, her mouth twitching. "There's just one last thing we need."

Kíli wants to leave right now, rush out the gates and after his family now that he has the strength and the power to do so, but he grudgingly follows Tauriel anyway. 

The one last thing turns out to be a horse, which Kíli supposes makes sense. The other dwarves are travelling on foot, of course, so it would give them an advantage in closing the gap between them. 

But Kíli can't help but notice the fact that it is only _one_ horse. 

"This is Elvellon," Tauriel says, and before he really knows what she's doing, she picks him up and places him on the saddle. "We don't have anything small enough for you to ride, so we'll have to share, I'm afraid."

She saddles herself in front of him and instructs him to hold onto something, "Just so long as it's not my hair," she warns, "or it'll be the last thing you ever do," and as Kíli wraps his arms around her waist and tries not to inhale her hair, he thinks he'll be able to bear it, somehow. 

*

They head north, in the vague direction of a village Tauriel thinks Thorin would be sure to stop at, since it was abandoned a long time ago and would therefore be unlikely to be overrun by zombies. 

"We are a safe haven for elves everywhere, and they tell us things when they pass through," she explains, before Kíli can ask how she knows this. "My good friend Arwen came through it not three weeks ago."

"A safe haven for elves," Kíli repeats archly, and Tauriel sighs. 

"I don't make the rules, young dwarf," she says heavily, and Kíli wonders how much older she is than him, how much more of the world she has seen. 

"I know," he says quietly. "And you broke them to help me, which I haven't thanked you for yet."

"Unnecessary," Tauriel replies. "I would appreciate you keeping an eye out for zombies more than words of gratitude."

"Oh, right," Kíli says, straightening up. "Of course."

They seem to have got lucky, though; they reach the village – Edoras, Tauriel said it was called – without encountering a single zombie. Arwen was right about the area being abandoned. 

Kíli just hopes it's not _totally_ abandoned. If his family isn't here, he really doesn't know how they're supposed to find them. But he's not going to think about that now; it does nobody any good to wallow in despair.

Tauriel dismounts her horse and holds out a hand to help Kíli down, but he's already jumping to the ground. 

"Right," he says. "Let's split up. We'll cover more ground that way."

"I don't think that's such a good idea," Tauriel says, looking wary. "Night is falling, and we are in territory unfamiliar to us both."

"It's a great idea," Kíli says breezily. "There aren't any zombies around here, for sure. And if by some miracle I do encounter a horde of them..." He shrugs, giving her a winning smile. "I'll scream loudly and pray you rush boldly to my rescue again."

Tauriel rolls her eyes, says, "Do be careful, Kíli."

She turns and strides off, and Kíli abruptly realises that that's the first time she's called him by his name. Shaking his head a little, he turns and heads in the opposite direction. 

The village is almost eerily quiet, even though it should surely be more worrying if there were noise. But it unsettles Kíli, makes the skin on his bare forearms break out in goosebumps. He pokes his head around a few doors, peers into the houses, trying not to hope to see a familiar face inside. 

Kíli's just decided it's a useless endeavour and he should make his way back to Tauriel and, just, continue heading east and pray to Mahal that their paths converge, or something, when he hears the snap of a twig breaking underfoot. He freezes dead in his tracks. 

"Tauriel?" he calls out, after a moment. "Is that you?"

He doesn't get a response, and he reaches for his bow instinctively. Before he can draw it, however, he feels the cold bite of a blade at his neck. 

"Move and I'll cut your throat," comes a voice, vaguely feminine and distinctly alive. Kíli doesn't know if that's a relief or not; the living can be just as vicious as the undead. "What is your business here?"

Kíli doesn't respond. 

"Answer me," the woman snaps. 

"But that would require movement," Kíli says, and feels the blade nick his skin, just a little, just enough to draw blood. 

"Answer me," she repeats. 

"I'm just trying to get back to my people," Kíli says. "I have reason to believe they passed through here, probably not long ago."

The blade remains at his throat. "You are very armed," the woman says evenly, "for someone who is just looking."

"I don't know if you've noticed but we're sort of in the middle of an apocalypse here," Kíli retorts. "Of course I'm armed." The woman just huffs in response. "Look, I'm not going to attack you or steal from you. Just let me go and I'll be on my way."

"I shall do no such-" the woman starts, but she trails off as a man appears in front of them, holding his hands up. 

"Let the dwarf go," the man tells her. The woman's grip on Kíli only tightens, and the man sighs. "Éowyn, please, or his elven companion is going to shoot me in the back."

Éowyn hisses through her teeth. " _Just looking_."

"Please, Éowyn," comes Tauriel's voice from somewhere beyond them, pitched to carry, yet still placating. "I do not want to hurt your brother, as much as I am sure you do not want to hurt my companion. Let him go."

Slowly, agonisingly slowly, Éowyn lowers her dagger. Kíli staggers away from her as soon as she releases him and pulls out his sword to have something to hold in his hands, a heavy, comforting weight. Tauriel appears a moment later, her bow still drawn. 

"Thank you kindly," she says, and puts her bow away. "My name is Tauriel, and this is Kíli. We mean you no harm, I swear to you."

Éowyn nods abruptly. "You can never be too safe," she says, and Tauriel nods back. 

"Indeed, you cannot," she says. "I commend your caution."

"Caution? She was going to slit my throat," Kíli objects. There's a fine line between appropriately wary and unnecessarily aggressive and he's pretty sure Éowyn's on the wrong side of it. 

Tauriel gives him a withering look. "Put that away," she mutters, before returning her gaze to Éowyn, who is now smiling hesitantly at her. "Would you happen to have seen a troupe of dwarves pass through here, maybe a day or so ago?"

Éowyn shakes her head. "We are the only living creatures to have inhabited Edoras in quite a while," she says, an edge to her smile. "We've been here a week and seen no one but the two of you. I'm sorry."

Kíli swears under his breath in Khuzdûl. Tauriel spares him a sympathetic glance. 

"Wait," Éowyn's brother says suddenly. "I did encounter a dwarf when I went hunting a few days ago. We tried to kill the same deer. He was fair-haired, with a long beard, and was shorter even than this one. One of yours, perhaps?"

_Fíli_ , Kíli dares to hope. "Possibly," he says. "Did he say anything to you?"

"Oh, yes," Éowyn's brother says, "we had a very involved conversation about the weather and the best ways to kill a zombie."

"Éomer," Éowyn says reprovingly. She seems to have softened towards them, or more likely towards Tauriel. "We can help you look for where they would've made camp," she says to Tauriel, which only confirms Kíli's suspicions. "Perhaps that would provide you with some clues as to where they've gone now." 

"I can take you to where I saw the other dwarf," Éomer offers. "The rest of them must have been near, since he had no one with him to help drag it back to them."

"Thank you," Tauriel says, and Kíli echoes her, ignoring the sudden hollowness in his chest. Fíli was alone because Kíli wasn't there to go with him, and nobody else can take his place. "But it can wait until we have daylight again."

"What? No! We should go right now," Kíli insists. "We're far enough behind as it is."

"It would be foolish to go now," Tauriel says. "It's far too dark for us to see anything, even with torches. We should resume our search in the morning."

"You can rest here," Éowyn offers. "We do have actual beds, after all, and we can keep watch while you sleep."

"I've done enough resting," Kíli says. 

"Perhaps you have," Tauriel says evenly, "but I have not, and it's been a long day's ride."

"I didn't ask you to come with me," Kíli snaps, and immediately regrets it. 

Tauriel's eyes flash, and she says, "Indeed, you did not. Go on if you like; I'm hardly going to stop you. But you'll be going alone."

Part of Kíli wants to snap back, " _Fine_ ," and flounce off into the forest, but he isn't a child any more, and he knows how foolish that would be. 

"Forgive me," he mutters, eventually. "I didn't mean it."

"I should not think not," Tauriel says, and turns back to Éowyn. "Thank you for your offer. It is very kind."

Éowyn blushes. "It's no trouble at all," she says, and out of the corner of his eyes, Kíli sees Éomer roll his eyes in a way that reminds him bitterly of his own brother. 

Éowyn settles them in a house by the stables so they can be near to Elvellon. Kíli half expects her to hang around and flirt with Tauriel some more, but she only nods a farewell at them before closing the door quietly behind her. 

"I really am sorry," Kíli says into the sudden awkward silence, and Tauriel sighs. 

"It's fine," she says. "I forget that you are not under my command. I can't just give orders and expect you to follow them."

"It's okay," Kíli says, because he gets it, and it is. "I just... miss my family. A lot."

Tauriel gives him a soft smile. "That I can understand," she says. "I will try to do more of that in the future."

"As will I," Kíli says around a yawn, which makes Tauriel look sort of triumphant. He narrows his eyes. "This is your fault. You made me tired with all your talk of resting."

"I am greatly sorry for the injustice," she says solemnly, and he sniffs. 

"As you should be," he says. "So where do you think the bedrooms are?"

"Bed _room_ ," Tauriel corrects, when a quick sweep of the house reveals this to be the case. 

Kíli swallows. "I'll sleep on the floor," he says quickly. "Or in another house."

Tauriel waves a dismissive hand. "No need," she says, "the bed should be big enough for us both."

"Um," Kíli says, and doesn't know what else to say. 

She looks at him, frowning a little. "There isn't a problem, is there?"

"I'm not sure it's entirely proper, my lady," Kíli says stiffly, and Tauriel huffs a breath. 

"I am not a lady," she corrects him. "I am hardly concerned with propriety, trust me."

Kíli frowns. "But you're a captain."

"I earned that rank," Tauriel says, her voice going hard. "I was not born to it."

"Oh, of course, I shouldn't have assumed otherwise," he says quickly, and she sighs. 

"No matter," she says. "I guessed you were born of privilege. I suppose it's easy to assume that others are, too."

Kíli wants to ask how she knew, what gave him away – he doesn't think he acts the spoilt princeling, but perhaps he is mistaken – but there's a flinty look in Tauriel's eyes like she might snap if he says the wrong thing, and he's already lucky she's still here. 

"Let us sleep together, then," he says, trying for a smile, "if you are so unconcerned with propriety."

Tauriel smiles back at him, and it's utterly unexpected, and all the more beautiful for it. "Let us."

They settle themselves on the bed, which Kíli assumes was intended for two humans. It fits Tauriel curled up behind him almost perfectly, with space enough that the only place they actually touch is at their knees, spots of warmth through their clothes. 

Decent enough, then. There's no reason for Kíli to feel awkward or wrong-footed, even if this is the closest he's ever been to another person that he's not related to. 

"Good night," Tauriel says, her breath tickling the back of Kíli's neck, and Kíli echoes her. 

*

"This is where the deer fell," Éomer announces, stopping in the middle of the undergrowth. "The dwarf approached from that side."

Kíli follows the direction of his gaze and nods. Tauriel's already striding off into the trees, her hair swinging in a neat braid behind her. Her hair, which Kíli had his fingers curled in when he awoke this morning, his other arm wrapped around her waist. 

Kíli gulps. He's awoken in similar positions before, but with Fíli, always with Fíli. It was perfectly normal for them, accepted, even expected. The same cannot be said for Tauriel. 

"Many dwarves lay here," she announces, when they've all caught up with her. "A great many." She glances at Kíli. "Travelling with such a large number is almost as foolish as travelling alone."

"We split into smaller groups when necessary," Kíli explains, wondering why he feels the _need_ to explain. It is none of Tauriel's business how they – well, how Thorin and the other elders – decide to conduct their journey. "I would say it was a fine plan, seeing as I'm one of the few they lost."

Tauriel's face softens for a moment before she looks back at the clearing. She surveys it for a few moments more and then treads carefully forwards. She kneels down, one ear to the ground, her eyes closed. 

"North east," she murmurs at length. "Six days ride from us at least." She straightens up, turning to Kíli. "They're moving quickly despite their numbers."

Kíli beams with pride on behalf of his family, his people, and Tauriel smiles back. But then her eyes go wide and she grabs her bow, loosing an arrow before any of them can even blink. Kíli whips around, his own eyes widening at the sudden mass of zombies appearing out of the trees. 

"Go!" Éomer shouts to Kíli and Tauriel, jumping to his sister's side. "We can handle this."

"I'm sure you can," Tauriel says, and doesn't move. Neither does Kíli. 

"Fools," Éowyn mutters, but she's smiling as she draws her sword. 

They dispatch of the zombies fairly quickly, and after they've pulled their arrows out of the fallen bodies, they sprint back to the village where Elvellon is waiting for them. 

"Farewell," Éowyn says solemnly, once they've packed up their stuff and are ready to leave. "I hope you find your family, Kíli."

Kíli nods at her, says, "Thank you," and means it. 

They ride north east – or, rather, Tauriel rides, and Kíli holds his bow ready for any threats to their lives they may encounter – for several hours, until the sun reaches its peak in the sky and they are both gasping from the heat. Tauriel sags back a little, clearly drained, and Kíli tries not to enjoy too much the way she feels against him. 

"Rest," Tauriel announces, very firm, and Kíli makes an unquestioning noise of agreement. 

"Lunch?" he says hopefully, and feels Tauriel laugh. 

"You're almost as bad as a hobbit," she says, but that isn't a _no_ , and Kíli grins. 

They eat lembas bread in companionable silence by the side of a low-lying river, Elvellon's head dipped down to the water beside them. After a while, Kíli kicks off his boots and sticks his feet into the river. The water is cool and delicious on his skin, and after a moment's consideration, he shucks off the rest of his clothes and his weapons until he's just sitting in his underwear, and then he jumps into the river. 

It's deeper than he expected, and Kíli's feet do not even graze the ground, and Kíli _loves it_. The current is weak here, and he allows himself to float along with it for a few moments before swimming back against it. 

When he glances back at the shore, Tauriel's looking at him, and there's something Kíli doesn't know how to name in her expression. 

"You should join me," he calls out, grinning. "The water is excellent."

"I'm sure it is," she says, "but someone needs to make sure we don't get eaten."

Kíli makes a dismissive noise. "Zombies hate water," he says. "I'm probably safer than you right now." He grins at the indignant look on her face, partly because his taunt worked, and partly because it's just really endearing. He can admit that to himself. "Come on, join me."

She looks at him consideringly for a few moments longer, and then she tugs off her clothes and slips into the river in front of him, graceful as a seal. She doesn't even bother swimming over to him, merely walks across the river bed. Kíli forces himself to look her in the eyes so he doesn't get distracted by her smooth skin, the flex of the muscles in her arms as she parts the water around her. 

"I didn't think dwarves cared much for water, either," she comments. 

"You learn fast when you live near a river and it's your best hope of escape in a tight spot," Kíli says. He grins at her because that's easier than remembering the people who didn't make it, simpler than reminding himself how many times he's nearly died. Tauriel smiles back like she understands, and Kíli is warmed by it. 

Or maybe that's just the river. Either way, he shows his gratitude by splashing water in Tauriel's face. 

Tauriel splutters something in Sindarin that sounds _extremely_ rude and Kíli ducks under the water and starts swimming away before she can retaliate, still grinning all over his face. 

*

They stay in the river far too long, floating around lazily. It's been ages since Kíli's done something like this, since he's been this relaxed, and he's missed it fiercely. 

He notices Tauriel avert her gaze as he drags himself out of the water, so he affords her the same courtesy when she does the same, pulling herself easily up to sit next to him on the river bank. They seem to have both decided it's worth waiting the short while it will take for them to dry out in the sun, rather than putting their clothes back on straightaway and getting them wet. Kíli doesn't sneak a glance to the left, but it takes effort. 

"Thank you for rescuing me, before," Kíli says. "Were it not for your excellent timing, I may very well be dead. You know, again."

"There's no need to thank me," Tauriel says. "I was never actually going to shoot Éomer. I found him with Elvellon." Kíli glances sideways, curious, and Tauriel's face is soft, her mouth twitching. He looks away, smiling. "I was only bluffing. Éowyn is cautious, and rightly so, but it was obvious she's not a murderer."

"You said that before," Kíli reminds her. "What did you mean by it? Why does she have more right to caution than you or I?" Tauriel turns her head to give him a look like she thinks he's very, very foolish, and he feels his face grow hot. " _What_?"

"She's a woman," Tauriel says, like this should be obvious. "Surely you know what that means."

"I don't," Kíli says defensively. "I can't say I've had many dealings with humans."

"Well. Humans have... strange ideas about gender," she explains, her face sour. "They are largely patriarchal and often violently so. It was already dangerous to be a woman in this world; now it is almost certainly fatal."

"That is horrifying," Kíli manages, nausea roiling in his gut. "Forgive me, I- I didn't know."

Tauriel shrugs. "Then you are lucky," she says, and it's only a little bitter. 

"Elves don't suffer this same bigotry, do they?" Kíli demands, horrified all over again, and Tauriel shakes her head quickly. 

"Gender means little to elves, as I am told it does to dwarves," she says, and Kíli nods a confirmation. "But I have encountered rather more humans than you have, enough for a lifetime of an elf. I don't know how they bear it."

They are both old enough that they can remember a time before this, before the infection, and they know that it will pass, one day. But there must be a great many humans who were born in the midst of it, children who have never known any other life, and Kíli hopes they grow up the better because of it. 

"The infection seems to have taken more humans than any other species," Kíli offers. "At least, that's what my uncle Thorin said, and he's the one who usually deals with humans. Maybe, when this is all over, they can start again."

"I hope you are right, Kíli," Tauriel says, and when she smiles it is as radiant as the stars in the night sky. 

*

They stumble into the path of several dozen zombies a few days later, and although they could probably outrun them fairly easily, it's been a while since they've seen any. They're both a little restless and uneasy; they need this. 

Kíli cuts down three zombies in his path in quick succession, then yells, "I'm on thirteen!" to Tauriel. Her answering laugh is razor sharp. 

"Twenty one," she says. His mouth drops open, but before he can say anything in response, she's whirling back into the fray.

Afterwards, Kíli pulls the last arrow he has to retrieve from the zombie's body and straightens up. 

"We should have meat for dinner," he says. "I don't know about you but I am getting sick of lembas bread."

Tauriel raises her eyebrows. "Usually it's the zombies eating us," she says, "not the other way around."

Kíli nearly chokes. "I meant hunting! _Live animals_. Not- not _that_."

Tauriel shrugs. "They can't spread the infection when they're properly dead," she says matter-of-factly, and Kíli just gapes at her for a few seconds. 

"I'm _joking_ , Kíli," she says eventually. She looks away, and Kíli's pretty sure this is the first time he's seen her look awkward, uncomfortable in her own skin. "Bet I can catch something before you do."

"No way," Kíli shoots back, and Tauriel visibly relaxes. 

They split up to hunt, walking into the woods in opposite directions. Kíli keeps his footfalls as quiet as he can, his ears pricked, scanning the trees for any movement. 

Nothing. 

He walks on further, growing impatient; it's not like he can't see animal tracks, can't see the traces of their existence on the forest. And yet, nothing, no sign of anything but himself, like they all just suddenly disappeared overnight, like-

Kíli stops dead, ice filling his veins. "Tauriel!" he screams. 

He catches movement out of the corner of his eye and fires off an arrow without thinking. It lands, uselessly, in the bark of a tree. Kíli curses, stumbles backwards, trips over his feet and falls on his arse. By the time he's scrambled up again, the forest is filling with zombies. 

" _Mahal_ ," Kíli breathes. They should have stuck together, they shouldn't have thought they'd be safe after they killed so many, they should have-

"Duck!" Tauriel hollers, and Kíli doesn't even think, just throws himself to the ground as Elvellon soars over his head. 

He lets himself just be relieved for a few seconds, watching Elvellon trample zombies underfoot, watching Tauriel shoots arrows through their heads, and then he jumps to his feet and joins them. 

"You took your time," he says, as he shoots a zombie looming up behind Tauriel and Elvellon. 

Tauriel doesn't even dignify that with a response, just tosses him a sheaf of arrows and says, "You're probably going to need these."

The zombies go down slowly, but easily; their only advantage is their number, and though Kíli and Tauriel are both tired and hungry, they are strong and determined to keep on living. 

But then there is a sickening crunch, a moan of pure agony, and Tauriel screams. 

Kíli whirls around, his eyes wild. He hates himself a little for the relief he feels when he sees that it is Elvellon with the chunk of flesh missing from their body, Elvellon whose blood is gushing like some twisted sort of stream. 

He looks at Tauriel, to offer sympathy, or comfort, or, or something, he doesn't know, but she doesn't look back. Abandoning her bow, she draws her sword and whirls on the nearest zombie. Her grief seems to serve as fuel, since she cuts down twice his number in the ensuing massacre. Kíli, wisely, does not comment on it; even he can tell it would not be appropriate right now. 

Once they've cleared the forest, Tauriel collapses on the ground where Elvellon has fallen. Between her face and her horse's twitching body, Kíli doesn't know where to look.

"I am so sorry," he says. 

Tauriel doesn't respond. Kíli's not sure she even heard him. He puts his hand on her shoulder, now level with his own, and, when she doesn't shrug him off, squeezes gently.

" _Goheno nin_ ," she says, and plunges her sword into Elvellon's heart. Abruptly, the horse stops twitching, and Kíli's throat constricts.

Tauriel doesn't move for a very long time, so neither does Kíli. He stands behind her, quiet and steady, until she rises to her feet, shaking off his hand.

"We should leave," she says, and Kíli has never heard her sound like this, so empty, so _sad_. "There could be more of them."

"I'm sorry," Kíli repeats uselessly, and Tauriel just sweeps past him. 

*

Tauriel is gone when Kíli wakes the next morning, and he has a few moments of panic – that she's been killed, or that she's left him, and he selfishly doesn't know which would be worse – until he catches sight of a figure stalking up the hill they took refuge on, loose red hair billowing in the breeze. 

"Here," Tauriel says when she reaches him, dumping a boar carcass on the ground. "I brought us meat."

Kíli's stomach churns with guilt. He knows it's misplaced, but that doesn't stop him feeling it. Before he can say anything, she adds, "We need firewood. I'll go fetch some."

And with that, she leaves, and Kíli sets about preparing the boar. 

They eat in silence, but it isn't an uncomfortable silence, exactly. Tauriel is just so very, very quiet and Kíli doubts she would appreciate him filling the space between them with idle chatter, so he doesn't. 

"Thank you," he says, when they're done, and Tauriel just shrugs kind of awkwardly. 

They are much, much slower on foot, and both of them are painfully aware of it. Kíli doesn't say anything, and neither does Tauriel, but he catches her casting glances in his direction, and the look on her face is all too easy to read. It's no fault of Tauriel's; he has seen grief far too many times to be unfamiliar with it, however well it's shielded. 

"We should turn right," Tauriel says, nodding towards the fork they are approaching. "Their trail is weaker, now, but the path leads to Rivendell, which they must have at least passed."

Kíli frowns. "I remember this, from the map," he says. "We should turn left."

Tauriel raises her eyebrows at him. "I think I know this area better than you, Kíli. We should turn right," she repeats, and it's not quite her pulling rank on him, but it's close enough to make him bristle. 

"I think I know my family better than you, Tauriel," he says hotly. "Thorin would rather die than cross elven territory."

Tauriel's face hardens. "Then he is a fool," she says, "and a poor, poor king."

Kíli's hands clench into fists, but before he can jump to his uncle's defence, he sees something that makes his breathing stutter. 

"What?" Tauriel snaps. 

"They have a troll," Kíli manages to get out, and Tauriel's eyes go wide as she spins around to see for herself. 

"How," she says, a harsh exhale, as she stares at the troll zombie lumbering down the path they've just walked, smaller zombies at its heels. Halflings, maybe, or perhaps dwarves. It's difficult to judge from this distance, with only the huge creature to measure them against. 

"Retreat?"

"Retreat," Tauriel agrees fervently, and they both sprint in the opposite direction. 

The fork rapidly approaches, and Kíli shoves his stubborn pride away and twists right. 

Only to trip over his own feet and go sprawling into the mud, clutching at his traitorous ankle. Tauriel stops almost instantly and is at his side before he can call out for her. 

"Are you all right?"

"I think my ankle's broken," Kíli says, wincing, either from pain or shame, he can't be sure. "Or perhaps just very badly sprained."

"Can you walk on it?" Tauriel asks urgently, and Kíli shakes his head. "Then I am going to have to carry you. Hurry, we've no time to lose."

She squats to the ground and he clambers onto her back, just as the troll zombie and its horde – they used to be dwarves, Kíli is certain of that now, and the knowledge makes something in him ache – catch up to them.

Kíli hears Tauriel's breath catch, just for a second, and then she's running. 

*

They take shelter as soon as they're sure they've left the zombies far, far behind. Tauriel kneels to help him off her back, grabbing him by the shoulders when he wobbles on one unsteady foot. She doesn't let go of him immediately, and for a moment they are level, neither one of them looking up or down at the other. 

And then she says, "Let me look at your ankle," as she pushes him into a sitting position, a command barely masquerading as a request. Kíli hides a smile in his elbow, but he needn't have bothered; it vanishes the instant Tauriel rolls up his trouser leg to get at his ankle. 

He swears, loudly and viciously, and Tauriel winces. "Sorry," she mutters, adjusting her grip. 

Kíli huffs a laugh. "Don't be. You're more gentle than Óin would be by far."

Tauriel glances at him. "Oín," she repeats. "One of your kin?"

Kíli nods. "An uncle, or something. It's hard to keep track. I have a very large family, and not all of them are actually related to me. What about you?" he asks, before he thinks it through, and Tauriel looks away. "Sorry, _sorry_ , I shouldn't have asked-"

"It's fine," she says, and when she meets his gaze, she's almost smiling. "I'm the last of my clan. The rest of my family died a long time ago, but it's hardly like I'm alone in the world. I have friends. Well," she amends, grimacing a little, "I have Legolas, and he isn't particularly fond of me at the moment."

"You have me," Kíli offers, "and I am very fond of you."

That comes out far more sincere than he means it to, and Tauriel glances at him, her brow creased. 

"I am very fond of you too, Kíli," she says eventually, the words stilted but not insincere. "Your ankle isn't broken, but it is a very bad sprain. I'm no healer, but I have enough skill with magic that I can probably mend it enough for you to walk on it. Would you like me to try?"

"You're already weak from carrying me and running so far," he reminds her. "It wouldn't be sensible to weaken yourself further."

"I'm fine," Tauriel says, stubborn as ever. "I could run another hundred miles and still be fine."

"You look little better than a zombie," Kíli retorts. 

He regrets it almost instantly, but Tauriel's only response is a raised eyebrow and, "You're a fine one to talk."

"That's probably fair," Kíli allows. "Still. You can try healing me in the morning, if you insist. _After_ you've rested."

"That's probably fair," Tauriel mimics, and Kíli has to laugh. 

*

Whatever Tauriel does to his ankle seems to work, because when he gets gingerly to his feet, he walks on it almost as easily if he were uninjured. 

He tosses a grin in her direction and says, "Right then. Now that that's sorted, we should get moving again."

Tauriel nods. "We got quite far off track," she says, "but we should catch up with them in a few days. They seem to have slowed quite a bit."

A few days. Kíli could be reunited with his family in a few days. He's pretty sure his giddy excitement shows on his face, because there is a small, sweet smile on Tauriel's face as she offers him her arm to lean on. 

"Just to make sure you don't trip over a tree root and actually break your ankle. Or worse, both of them," she says at his raised eyebrow. "I can't promise I wouldn't just leave you to the zombies, in that case."

"You wouldn't," Kíli says, and he isn't sure where his certainty comes from, but it pulses through him like the surety of his family's love, of his people's loyalty. 

"I wouldn't," Tauriel confirms, striding forward quickly, but not too quickly to leave him staggering alongside her. "But only because I've invested far too much time and energy in you to let you just die on me now."

"Exactly," Kíli says, unable to help his grin. 

Tauriel insists on them taking a break after what can only be a few hours, and even though Kíli puts up a suitable amount of fuss, he's grateful. Tauriel's magic does seem to have healed the sprain, but it didn't numb the pain, and he could definitely do with some time to sit down and recover himself. 

It isn't long before they're moving again, however, in the interests of making the most of the daylight hours and the apparent lack of zombie menaces. Kíli loves days like this, when it feels like before, and he can pretend the world isn't ending and every day isn't a battle. 

He walks without Tauriel's help, this time,. It means he moves more slowly, but he enjoys the proximity of their bodies, the warmth of her so close to him, far too much. And anyway, it's not like he isn't already feeling better. 

They walk on, and on, and on, until Tauriel stops abruptly, holding up a hand. Kíli's still lagging behind her, so he doesn't notice until the very last second, and crashes right into her back. 

"Ow," he says, through a mouthful of hair. 

"Hush," she says, hissed through her teeth. 

"I don't hear anything," Kíli whispers, after a few seconds of waiting for whatever it was Tauriel was clearly listening for. 

"Well, you won't if you're not-" She breaks off, her arm snapping back to hold him behind her. "Don't move."

Kíli offers an obligatory struggle, but her grip is like iron, and it's not like he particularly minds it. He goes limp, already planning something to say to tease her about being overly protective, _seriously_ , he's hardly a damsel in distress, when she draws her bow and says, "The same goes for you, dwarf."

Kíli frowns. 

"I mean you no harm, I assure you," is the dwarf's response, and Kíli's heart almost stops in his chest. "I'm just looking for my brother."

"Fíli," Kíli says hoarsely. He's moving before he's aware of making the decision to break out of Tauriel's grip. 

Sure enough, there is his brother, standing in front of them, one of his many axes raised, a look of utter disbelief on his face. 

"Fíli," he says, and has his brother locked in an embrace before either of them can blink. 

"I thought you were dead," Fíli says fiercely, "or _worse_ ," and Kíli just clutches at him because there is nothing he can say to that. 

Tauriel clears her throat politely and Kíli suddenly remembers that there are other people in the world who are not his brother. He steps away from Fíli, but only a little, keeping him close to him. Tauriel's lowered her bow, but she doesn't look any less suspicious. 

"Tauriel, this is my brother, Fíli. Fíli, this is Tauriel." Fíli looks somewhere between confused and just suspicious as Tauriel. "She's been helping me find my way back to you."

"Helping," Fíli echoes. "Well then. Your way's been found, so she can leave now, can't she?"

"Come on, Fíli, she can't very well go back to her people by herself," Kíli reasons. "Travelling alone is suicidal."

"What do you care? She's an elf," Fíli says, sounding honestly bemused, and Kíli snaps back, "She's my _friend_ ," which gives Fíli pause. "She has saved my life on countless occasions. I can't even imagine how horribly I am in her debt."

"She," Tauriel says, evenly, "is right here." Kíli feels immediately embarrassed and opens his mouth to apologise, but she's already moving on. "How did you find us, if I may ask? We are at least two days behind you, or so we thought."

Fíli's eyes narrow. "What are you accusing me of, elf?"

"I accuse you of nothing," Tauriel returns, still in the same tone. "I am merely curious."

"We... lost our way," Fíli tells them. His eyes dart to Tauriel before settling on Kíli. "Gandalf's route was going to take us through Rivendell. You can imagine how Uncle Thorin took that. They had a very pointed disagreement which ended in Gandalf storming off and taking the map with him. Yesterday, we were wandering the Trollshaws and I found one of your arrows embedded in a zombie's back." He smiles, like he can't help it, and Kíli beams back at him. "Thorin said it was foolish, but I had to try and find you."

Kíli hugs his brother again, even tighter than before. "Who did you bring?"

"Gimli, though it would be more accurate to say he brought himself along," Fíli says with a wry smile. "He's keeping watch on the edge of the forest. We should go meet him before he gets himself into trouble."

Kíli laughs, already moving to collect his things. When he straightens up, he looks at Tauriel, who is standing very, very still. 

"Tauriel?" he says, the smile dropping off his face. "Aren't you coming with us?"

"I doubt I would be very welcome," she says, with a quick glance at Fíli. 

"You would," Kíli promises her, and promptly elbows his brother in the ribs. 

Fíli glares at him, but says, only a little reluctant, "Any friend of Kíli's is a friend of our family. And if it is true that Kíli is in your debt then Thorin cannot turn you away."

Tauriel sighs. "It isn't. Kíli owes me nothing."

"Yes, I do," Kíli says fiercely. "I never would've got this far without you."

"But now you have," Tauriel says. "Your brother's right. Your way has been found, and I must return to my people. I have duties, and stuff."

She smiles, and Kíli smiles back, helpless. Without thinking about it, he lurches forward and wraps his arms around her waist. She seems surprised by the hug, but she doesn't push him away and after a few seconds, she hugs him back, her arms crossed just above his neck. 

Fíli coughs significantly. "Sorry to interrupt," he says, not sounding sorry at all, "but you don't need to say goodbye just yet. You aren't the only person I wanted to find. We don't stand a chance of getting to Erebor without the map, and I'm nearly certain Gandalf took shelter at Rivendell. I assume, Tauriel, that you'll be heading back that way, too."

"Your assumption would be correct," she replies. "I suppose it would only be efficient to travel together."

"Efficient," Fíli repeats, looking highly amused, and Kíli bites back a groan, already anticipating the teasing he is going to have to endure. "Indeed."

"What was that you were saying about catching up with Gimli?" he says pointedly, and Fíli just laughs, pulling him back in for a hug. 


End file.
